Title: Say It Like You Mean It.Pairing: Jon/Stephen, Stephen/Paul, Jon/Paul, Jon/Stephen/Paul (with a hint of Stephen/Everyone)Rating: NC-17Summary:The thing about knowing Stephen Colbert (the thing about fucking Stephen Colbert), is that there's almost always an obstacle.Notes: This is kind of an "I'm sorry" gift for effetely for putting up with all the shit I've given her recently. What better way to say sorry than gratuitous porn? And this is also for cosmicdancer and canis_takahari because they fill me with glee. Also kind of AU, as it is set in a wifeless universe where Stephen is a complete slut. Hooray!Warnings: Uh. Porn. Threesomes. Also slight D/s and rimming. I'VE NEVER HAD TO PUT UP WARNINGS BEFORE SO IF I MISSED SOMETHING, LET ME KNOW.Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual persons is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).

Any mention of 'The Daily Show', 'The Colbert Report', 'Viacom', any associated entites, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976 and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material.

*When you told me that the worst was overWas like saying we had luck with a three-leaf cloverand you kept saying that over and over.*

The thing about knowing Stephen Colbert (the thing about fucking Stephen Colbert), is that there's almost always an obstacle. Well, not so much with the fucking. Stephen has always been eager and needy (Jon loves how Stephen begs for it sometimes, eyes positively shining with a darkness that he hasn't seen beforehand). The thing is, everyone else.

See, if Jon had known that Stephen had fucked most of the cast of The Daily Show (and many of the crew of The Colbert Report), maybe he would have made his advances sooner. There is an advange to this, however. The stories are amazing.

("Yeah, I took Ed out after one of the shows and ended up getting him drunk enough to suck me off in my car on the way home", Stephen tells him one night from his lap. Jon is half-hard and can hardly see straight, but he manages to speak anyway,

"Was he any good?"

"As good as an awkward fifteen-year old with a hell of a lot of enthusiasm," he replies with a smile,

"He was so surprised when I came down his throat".

Jon goes to say something, but is cut off by Stephen's lips crushing his and his hand on his crotch.)

This could be potentially problematic when one wants a loving relationship out of this whole thing (Jon doesn't want a relationship. That's why he has an ex-wife and she's breathing down his goddamn neck about child support payments that he already gave. He just wants a good fuck, and Stephen provides that. But there's this feeling in his chest he can't make go away, no matter how much alcohol he has consumed, and he fucking hates that).

Another obstacle in the way is Stephen is honest to God insatiable. He's already told Jon (on numerous occasions) that he doesn't mind calling up Jason or Demetri or "Fuck, even Paul", he says with a slight grimace, and Jon files that away in the "things to check up on later" part of his brain (the one next to the part with Stephen, Stephen, oh God Stephen running through over and over and fucking over).

The most Jon can do is offer to suck him off, and Stephen takes it while moaning aloud how good Jason's cock feels in his ass, and he comes too early, taking Jon by surprise. He can feel it dripping off his chin and running down his throat, and Stephen, still panting, licks it off before collapsing beside him.

Jon feels a little bit emptier than before, even with Stephen next to him (he's so goddamn warm from all of the fucking he's done today). That's okay.

~*~

Jon calls Paul the next week, before he heads off to the studio. Paul answers, breathless, and Jon has to hesitate before speaking.

"Uh, Paul?"

"Hold on, gimme a minute".

He hears a slight rustling in the background, a grunt, and an "oh fuck". It doesn't take Jon long to realize just what he had interrupted.

"Tell all the hookers you have there to go home; I really need to talk to you", he says with a smile.

Paul just laughs, husky and low, and he takes in a breath. "So, what do you need?"

"What's up with you and Stephen this time?"

There is a pause, and from the lack of heaviness, Jon can tell that it's nothing serious. Nothing that can't be fixed, at least. When you find two people who are as close as Stephen and Paul, there has to be something between them all the time, whether it's a secret or a grudge, but it never lasts long. Stephen had told him some time ago about the one relationship he actually gave a decent try, and Paul still wanted more. When compared to their current situation, Jon can sense that feeling again. He swallows it down and waits for Paul's reply.

"He was over last night?" he says, not giving an answer. Jon can tell right then and right there that he'll never know what happened. But then again, maybe it doesn't matter. They always seem to find a balance somewhere; something to keep them moving.

"Yeah, for a little while," Jon answered.

"Did you fuck him?" Paul asks in a voice so quiet it's almost a whisper, and Jon can hear another rustle, and a pull, and Paul gives a little noise that almost sounds like a sigh, and Oh, God.

Jon remains silent, and Paul continues. "Yeah, you did. Did he beg? Do you know how pretty he is when he begs?"

"Fuck, Paul," Jon breathes, and there's a laugh on the other line.

"You know, if you start out real slow, hardly moving at all, he'll beg for you," There was a slight pause, a quiet groan, and he keeps going, "You should hear how loud he gets when he really wants it."

"Okay, I'm hanging up right now," Jon says, tongue sliding between his lips to wet them. He doesn't even register the fact that he's already hard, and Paul is willing, and good God he wants to get fucked right now.

It's like Paul reads his mind. "Come over".

It's Jon's turn to pause, steadying his breathing. "What?"

"Come over; I'll show you."

The scary thing is, Jon doesn't even hesitate before he says yes.

~*~

Jon's hands grip the steering wheel of his car so tight, it almost hurts. His knuckles are bone-white.

He doesn't know what the hell he should be expecting, but he knows that it's probably nothing that will help this situation with Paul and Stephen.

He doesn't know where he stands in all of this. Paul was the ex-boyfriend and Jon was the kind of new boyfriend that never got anywhere and Stephen was the one who couldn't make up his goddamn mind.

He remembers one night, when Stephen was arching his neck from beneath him and his moans were echoing against the walls and Jon grabbed the collar of his pretty white shirt (Jon's pants were around his ankles and his shirt wasn't even halfway opened, because Stephen is just so fucking impatient). Stephen moaned out, "Yeah, this is how it used to be" and Jon never knew what the hell he meant. He thinks he knows now.

Unfortunately, he doesn't have much time to debate this with himself because he has pulled up next to Paul's apartment, and Paul is standing right outside near the parking lot, his head bowed low and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Smoke trickled from the lit end and provided just enough light for Jon to see his eyes, dark and daunting and holy fuck, what the hell am I doing here?

"You smoke?" he asks as he gets out of the car slowly, his hands still in fists. Paul looks up at him, and his lips curve into a devious smile. Fuck, Jon thinks, because he remembers the first time that they met and how he had jerked off furiously in his bed afterwards thinking about those lips around his cock.

"Sometimes," he says quietly, and he takes one more puff before he flings the still smouldering cigarette on the ground before jerking his head and motioning for Jon to follow him.

He's been to Paul's place exactly once before, and never in the bedroom. In fact, he's not quite sure where it is, or what's going to happen next. Paul wasn't really the most predictable person. He knew when Stephen wanted to fuck and what he was going to say; sometimes Jon even beat him to the punch and finished his sentences. This was so much different. He wasn't sure what to do.

"So, uh . . ."

That was as far as he got before Paul's arm hooked around his neck and pulled him forwards, crushing their lips together with a fierceness that honestly scared Jon. He jumped and tried to push away, but Paul was stronger than him. His tongue parted Jon's lips and swept inside his mouth, his teeth grazing slightly along Jon's bottom lip. After a minute, they had established a jerky but consistent rhythm to their kissing, and Jon was pressing forward, trying to get closer.

Paul ended the kiss and breathed deeply before kissing him again, gentler this time but with the same amount of urgency, before he stood, his arm still resting on Jon's shoulders.

"C'mere," he said, guiding him to the south side of the room, to a dark hallway that Jon previously had missed.

This was more than bizarre; more like fucking insane. Though he really wasn't surprised much, because Paul had always had a certain intensity to him, one that drew people to him. But this was too much, kind of like a sick and twisted roleplaying game, because Paul saw Stephen when he looked at him, with eyes that mirrored the image of the moon from outside (that's how dark it, this, was) and Jon felt like Stephen, completely captivated and scared to death.

And somehow, as he is pondering this, Paul manages to slip them both out of their shirts and is working on Jon's pants, sliding down the zipper deliberately slow and they can both hear the sound reverberate louder than normal, and Jon is already painfully hard. Paul kisses him again, forcing his pants off of his hips and his hands travel upward and touches skin; Jon moans into his mouth and any thought that was previously in his head has been long forgotten.

He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, and Paul lays his hand to rest on Jon's thigh, his fingertips grazing the bottom of his boxers. Jon breaks the kiss and throws his head back, letting out a soft whimper as he tries to shift his body lower (tries to get Paul to fucking touch him already) and the corners of Paul's lips curve up into a smug, shit-eating grin, commending Jon on his performance already.

"You want me to jerk you off?" he asks, his voice low. Jon makes a noise somewhere in the back of his throat and nods, aiming lower and lower, until Paul's fingers are covered with fabric down to the knuckle, still closer but not fucking close enough.

"That's not an answer."

"Fucking God, yes," Jon finally manages to stammer out, the head of his cock peaking through the slit in his boxers and holy shit, he's so hard that it's fucking hurting him.

Paul gives a smirk and tugs Jon's boxers down, his dick finally free from the constraints of clothing and Jon sighs (Fucking finally he thinks). "You're going to have to beg for me."

Jon's eyes open (fuck, he didn't even know that he had them closed) and he can make out Paul in the dark, and he's smiling hard. "W-what?"

"More," Paul breathes, his head pressed against the side of Jon's face and his lips inches from his neck, and Jon can feel the heat and he wants to arch towards him (Paul has him pinned down to the bed, the bastard).

Jon, goddamnit, almost sobs; his fingers clawing the cold sheets underneath him. "I-I want your hand on my dick, right now," he says, not quite sure what the right thing to say is. "I want to fucking come, Paul. Fuck."

Paul smiles and stops, and Jon doesn't like where this is going. "Right after you suck me off".

He doesn't even think; the thought doesn't even roll through his head the entire way before Jon is on his knees, his fingers clumsily undoing the buttons of Paul's pants and ohmyfuckinggod, he's more gorgeous than Jon ever even imagined. He licked a line up the underside of Paul's cock before his mouth closes on him; his tongue moving in circles around the head.

He hears Paul softly moan above him, and he moves his hands away from the bed, closing one around the base of Paul's dick and grinding his own into the mattress, a groan escapes him from low and his throat.

Jon whimpers, his tongue dipping low and taking more into his mouth, and Paul continues, "I'll fuck you hard, just how he likes it."

It's almost insane how fast Jon responds to this; he bobs his head faster and takes in more, choking a little because of his overload of enthusiasm. But he gets it soon, creating a steady rhythm while his hand moves downward, cupping Paul's balls, rolling and caressing them in the palm of his hand.

And then Paul makes that sound, and holy shit, Jon thinks that he could come right then and there. It's low and needy (someone might mistake it for a whimper, he thinks incredulously) and Paul's fingers move from Jon's hair to his chin, and he pulls him upwards. "Stop," he says. "Lie down."

Jon doesn't even think of not listening, but quietly obeys. Paul is hovering above him, lips parted and eyes closed, and he kisses him softly, his hand on Jon's shoulder and pulling him close. And it's so different - almost leisurely - that Jon is suddenly caught off guard. He moans quiet into Paul's mouth and they part. Paul ducks his head down, kissing his neck, his chest, his stomach; down, down, down until his lips are around the head of his dick, and then he moves even lower, and-

"Holy Fuck," Jon gasps, feeling Paul's hands spreading him, his tongue flicking and brushing against the nerves of his ass and ohfuck. It's only for a fleeting second, and Jon sighs and mourns the loss of wet warmth, until he feels a slightly wet (it's not wet enough, goddamnit) finger pushing inside him, followed by another soon afterward.

"Motherfucker!" Jon yells, pain flaring from the lack of lubrication, and he shuts his eyes tight in a rough grimace. "Paul, that fucking hurts!"

"Shh," Paul tries to hush him, moving out slowly before plunging back in, and Jon wiggles above him, his nails scratching helplessly at the sheets.

"I said stop, fucker!" he practically screams, and Paul's eyebrows furrow before he removes his fingers (fucking roughly too, probably just to spite him) and gives Jon's ass a smack before pushing himself off the bed, leaving the room to presumably grab some lube.

"Don't leave," Paul yells behind him, and Jon smirks.

"Yeah, because I'm just going to sneak out the window."

"Well. Don't do it."

He just laughs, and buries his head in the pile of sheets next to him, his mind racing. He can't even remember why he came here. Why he's still there, that's another mystery. But then Paul appears in the doorway, a smug grin on his face and he's naked and fucking gorgeous, and he just stops thinking.

"Come here," Paul says, grabbing hold of his wrists and pulling Jon toward himself, and he sucks Jon's bottom lip between his teeth before slicking his fingers with lube and pressing them inside him. Jon sighs. This feels so much better, and it's not long before he's writhing, his neck arched and his fingers gripping Paul's hips.

"Please," he whispers (he fucking begs and the sound rings like music in Paul's ears) Please, oh fuck."

And Paul fucking listens because he's so tired of waiting. He removes his fingers (again, again) and curls his fingers over his cock and coats it thick, and then it's just the two of them as he pushes and fucking pushes, and Jon lets out another gasp but doesn't make him stop, but instead moves back and words fall from his lips (harder, faster, please)

Paul pulls his hips back and slams forward, over and over and fucking over and Jon feels shockwaves spread all over his body when Paul's fingers slide up his sides, down his chest, grips his cock and gives it a few short, rough pulls.

"Oh-oh shit" is all he can, repeating it like a mantra and his head lulls to the side, his fingernails digging into the skin of Paul's hips and he's not aware of how rough he's being. Paul gives a sharp groan and bends forward, his breath tickling Jon's ear.

"Say my name," is all he has to say, before Jon is trembling and moaning and Jesusfuck he's coming across Paul's knuckles.

"Fuck, Paul," is all he's able to get out before he's panting erratically, too spent to say anything else. Paul pulls out of him suddenly, and his hands are around his own cock and he strokes to the sound of Jon's breathing until he's coming too, spurts jetting up Jon's chest and he slumps forward, boneless and breathless and he doesn't make a sound.

They sit in silence, Jon tries to catch his breath, and he thinks that he could fall asleep like this; watching the bruises slowly purple on Paul's hips and the insides of his thighs (he can't remember how the hell those got there). But Paul is whispering in his ear, shoving his shirt towards him.

"Come here tomorrow," he says. "I have another surprise for you."

Jon's had enough of fucking surprises. This has been one shitstorm of surprises, over and over, and he just wants normalcy for once. But Paul kisses his neck and bites down on his shoulder and he finds himself saying yes.

~*~

It's quiet when Jon comes over the next day, his ass sore as all hell (he doesn't know how Stephen does it) and it's still as dark as the night before. The only thing that distracts him is whispers. He hears them, across the room, and his first instinct is to follow them.

He opens the door to Paul's bedroom, and the click of the hinge rings through the empty hallway (Paul always did say that he was shit as a decorator, even with Amy as a friend), and the first thing he sees is Stephen.

He sees Paul next, his fingers entangled in Stephen's hair and pulling his head roughly back and exposing his arched neck (oh shit, Jon thinks, and his breath hitches in his throat). Paul smirks.

"He loves it when you're rough," he explains, and Stephen makes an agreeable sound underneath him.

Oh, they're naked. It's almost painfully obvious now, how overdressed Jon is, and he's this close to fucking running and never looking back, but the look in Stephen's eyes keeps his feet planted firmly to the ground, and Stephen moans low in the back of his throat and shuts his eyes as Paul thrusts forward again. "Oh. Oh God."

Paul's eyes are focused on Jon, and he takes his hand off of Stephen's neck to beckon him forward. "Get undressed and join in, Jonny Boy."

Jon hesitates, but only for a minute, because Paul keeps thrusting insistently into Stephen and he keeps fucking whimpering, moaning low in his throat and Stephen manages to get a "please, Jon" out and then that's it.

He undresses quickly, a little nervous because Paul's eyes are on him the entire time as he starts fucking Stephen slow, nails lightly raking down his back and Stephen breathes deep and his head drops forward, a series of small sighs escaping his lips.

Jon gets on the bed, leans back and sits on his heels, unsure of where he stands in this, or what he should do (Paul seems to have everything covered pretty well, judging by the sounds coming from Stephen). And then Paul takes Stephen's arms, holds them behind him so Stephen's back is straight, his cock hard and the only thing in Jon's line of vision.

"I want you to suck his dick for him," Paul begins, licking a line up the side of Stephen's neck and taking the lobe of his ear in between his teeth. "He's been good today."

Jon doesn't have to think twice, as he figures out the right way to lie on his bed to do this (he'd have to lift his head if he was on his back, and his neck can't take it. Bending forward would be hell on his back, and so he lies on his side). The angle is awkward, but he still manages to get Stephen's cock between his lips, and it nudges the inside of his cheek and moves further down his throat with every thrust from Paul, who is still trailing kissing from Stephen's neck to his shoulder.

He moves an arm to the small of Stephen's back, pushing him even further until he can feel Stephen's cock thickening near the back of his throat.

He gets a shock when he feels a hand on his cock; Paul's long fingers wrapping around his length and stroking at a languid pace, so that Jon moans around Stephen's cock and they move like that for a while, the bed springs groaning under the force of their movements.

"Stephen will be the last to come," Paul warns, and Jon backs off a little bit, ignoring Stephen's groaning complaint. Jon's hips pump, and he's fucking Paul's hand hard (he doesn't think it's fair to make Stephen wait) and Paul's fingers are hot and tight around him.

With a deep moan (almost a growl, he thinks), he comes violently, coating the back of Paul's hand and staining the sheets under them. He has to back away from Stephen entirely to catch his breath (Stephen doesn't like this, but that's what he fucking deserves for putting him through all this shit) and Paul wipes his hand on the mattress and concentrates on fucking Stephen, hard but steady.

Stephen whines, his head dropping back. He's so fucking close, Jon can almost feel it.

"Paul-Paul, please"

"Don't you fucking dare," Paul replies, his forehead pressing against Stephen's back as he pushes in, out, in, one more time and he gives a groan as he comes, his hand moving to Stephen's cock to finish him off as his orgasm rips through him.

Jon is lucky that he's still conscious at this point, but he has the sense to cover Paul's hand with his own, squeezing lightly and helping him jerk Stephen off until he heard a yell above him, and the first shot of Stephen's release catches him right in the side of the face.

Stephen's fucking loud, even when coming down from his peak, and he breathes and groans noisily into the crook of Jon's neck, his forehead sticky and damp and Paul rubbing his back above him.

"Woah," is all Jon can think to say, and Paul gives a lazy smile and kisses him slowly, a towel from on the floor in his hand to wipe the mess from his face. "That was - wow."

"I agree," Stephen says contently, stretched out next to Paul and rubbing his stomach absently. They are quiet then.

There is so much running through Jon's head. How this was just something to get his mind off his divorce, about how Stephen had been so fucking willing (Stephen was always willing). Paul hadn't been part of the equation. They didn't even know each other very well, despite their mutual friendship with Stephen.

But he sees the look that Stephen gives Paul. It's only there for a second, their eyes connecting and leaving with a flash, but it's something that Jon has never seen before until now. And then Stephen's hand is on Paul's back, and Paul's hand is on Jon's, and it kind of makes sense now.

Lessseee where to start...I'm at work trying to hide my twelve inch boner and essentially weeping openly at the hot...and this is just after the Ed anecdote.

Jon remains silent, and Paul continues. "Yeah, you did. Did he beg? Do you know how pretty he is when he begs?"

fuuuuck.

Paul is standing right outside near the parking lot, his head bowed low and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Smoke trickled from the lit end and provided just enough light for Jon to see his eyes, dark and daunting

holychristohfuck.

Another obstacle in the way is Stephen is honest to God unsatiable.

Ohsweetmotherfuckingjesusgod.

So, uh, yeah. S'alright I guess. I am most certainly not a dead puddle of keyboard smash goo that wants to have your gay mpreg internet babies or anything fucking lame like that.

I love everything about this story, but two things in particular are going to have me coming back to this later.

First is the image of Stephen. He's done everyone and everything and still has affection for everyone and love for a few, but he's insatiable and to even think of trying to tie him down is moronic. I love that. Stephen, the modern day Casanova, is how I've always pictured him.

Second, and the biggest thing, is Paul. Oh my god, your Paul is just art. Dark and seductive and a little scary at times. I could never write him like this because he's a bit too scary for my usual tastes, but still, this is a beautiful version of him.

Best line: Jon felt like Stephen, completely captivated and scared to death.

Paul looks up at him, and his lips curve into a devious smile. Fuck, Jon thinks, because he remembers the first time that they met and how he had jerked off furiously in his bed afterwards thinking about those lips around his cock.

I would pick out parts but. Okay um. The parts in parentheses are great. Especially that it's not fair to make Stephen wait and that this is what he "fucking deserves" and sdjkghadfk;jgdaflgadgfds;l YES DOM!PAUL YES. Yes. Yes. uessfysdyeyeyeyes.sdf

HOLY FUCK. If I had a cock, it would be rock-hard. I can't believe I just typed that. Dom!Paul, Paul/Jon, Paul/Stephen/Jon, there's no way I can comment on this without a lot of cursing, so hopefully a keyboard mash will do: lkflghlkjhlkdhlgksfhlgkhirnngh!!

He sees Paul next, his fingers entangled in Stephen's hair and pulling his head roughly back and exposing his arched neckOkay, Stephen's neck? KINK. oh, yes.

sweet zombie jesus!!!!!!!!111111111 This was some hot, steamy, delicious mansex right here. I'm pretty sure dom Paul is one of my favorite things ever. It gives me a 20 inch throbbing boner and makes me want him to boss me around and slap me until I beg for it, which would be about .002 seconds (DID I SAY THAT OUT LOUD!?) I would enjoy being Jon in this story plz.

So yeah "Do you know how pretty he is when he begs?" made me cream just a little.

And smoking in general is pretty damn yucky to me, but as I said to myargylesocks, I would suck the fucking smoke out of Paul's lungs, He makes it sexy to me.

"I want you to suck his dick for him," Paul begins, licking a line up the side of Stephen's neck and taking the lobe of his ear in between his teeth. "He's been good today."

That is pretty much the death of me right there. So yeah, this comment makes no sense and contains far too much TMI, but the manlove has ended all brain functions.

Wow. Poetic, gorgeous and Paul? being all dom and dark and intense and my gawd I want to be any one of them right now. I love the understanding they reach at the end- how Jon comes to terms- it's almost like clouds breaking and sheer blue breaking through.